String Theory
by Scrunchy
Summary: After spending a career in an asbestos lined suit, Pyro develops lung cancer and Engineer must deal with it while Sniper is away. Warning: Character death. Cover art by Moofrog.


So uh... hi. This isn't a sad fanfic. jsyk. Okay, carry on.

* * *

Pyro's laugh shudders through the waiting room, and Engineer smiles at his magazine until it cuts off and a rattling cough takes its place. His page is lost when he shoves the magazine to the side and joins his lover in the small play area, where he'd been teaching a couple of kids how to build a chimney with Linkin' Logs.

"I'm fine!" Pyro assures the Texan when he kneels next to him and pulls his face around to look at him. "I'm fine… Engie…" no matter how many years they'd been together, lived in the same house, Pyro never once called him by his Christian name. It was always "Engie" or "Eng," somehow, any other name just wasn't as personal.

"Mr. Conagher?"

Engineer turns to see a doctor waiting for them with a smile and a clipboard. It's not comforting. He rests a hand on Pyro's shoulder, though he would rather take his hand, and they stand together to follow the man back into the examination rooms. Only one nurse asks if he would rather wait out in the waiting room, and Engineer's decline is so firm that no one dares to push the subject further. The doctor does ask if Pyro would rather his "friend" wait outside, but the smiley red head shakes his head and wraps an arm around Engineer's shoulders.

"I wouldn't understand anything without him." Pyro assures the doctor as he begins stripping down to get a preliminary physical. Engineer bites back a smile and tries to remain as unobtrusive as possible in his little plastic chair.

The appointment doesn't last an hour. Engineer occasionally offers information or clarifies something if Pyro doesn't quite communicate what he intended, or the doctor is looking for something more. Times, dates, how long he's been ill, how long he's been coughing up blood with the phlegm, how frequently. He's kept track, though Pyro hadn't.

He's been sick for three and a half weeks—Twenty-eight days since he started sniffling and coughing. He's been having more frequent asthma for two weeks—fifteen days ago he started having them daily rather than once a week or even every few days. He's been coughing up blood for two days—that was the sign that they needed to make the appointment.

"I'm sure it's nothing." The doctor assures them when he's finished taking his notes and Pyro is allowed to redress. "We see this all the time this time of year—the temperature doesn't know if it wants to be hot or cold and the fluctuation gets folks sick." He grins and claps Pyro on the back, causing him to flash the man a grin. "I would, however, like him to come back tomorrow for some tests."

"Tomorrow?" Engineer asks, scratching his jaw. "We're from outta town, down near Austin…" He mentioned, though that wasn't the problem. He didn't want to wait until tomorrow for the tests to be done.

"I'm sorry we're really backed up, and—"

"No, it's not…" Engineer shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath before looking back up at the doctor. "I just need the results as soon as possible… y'know? Gotta know he's okay…"

"Engie…" Pyro's smile turns Engineer's cheeks and ears red.

"Well, we could keep him overnight for the tests." The doctor mentions, giving Engineer an understanding nod. "But we can't allow… ah… you to spend the night; you'd have to come back tomorrow morning during open visiting hours."

Engineer doesn't like the sound of that, but Pyro's hand takes his and gives a squeeze.

"Engie, I'll be fine. I know you wanna get back to the farm as soon as we can. They said it's probably nothing, alright?" Pyro's thumb strokes across his knuckles. "I'll be _fine_." Engineer sighs, defeated.

"Alright, when will we need to be back and where?" Engineer asks, looking up at the doctor.

The doctor had been watching the tender touch of their hands, and when Engineer's eyes are on him again, he looks embarrassed by it. His eyes snap back to his clip board and he starts making notes again. "Ahem… the next open slots for the machines I would need is in the evening." He tells them, reaching for a pad of notes and scribbling down a section of the hospital and a floor number. "Here's the place he'll need to be dropped off at, the name of the doctor who will be taking care of him is Oswald." He hands the square of paper to Engineer and stands from his stool.

"Do you have any questions you'd like to ask me?" The doctor offers the two a smile.

Pyro shrugs and looks at Engineer, who's staring at the print at the bottom of the notepad blankly.

After a moment of silence, the doctor clears his throat. "Mr. Conagher?"

Dell looks up from the paper, his jaw working and his lips set in a grim line. "Why are you sending us to an oncologist?"

:::::

"I can stay if you want." Sniper tells Engineer as he hands things up in the exact order that the Texan wants them. The marksman had met all kinds of men in his life, but none of them had the spatial reasoning that Engineer did when it came to packing a bunch of things into a limited amount of space.

"Nah, you'd better go while you can." Engineer tells Sniper, shaking his head. "It's only been two days, and they said by the end of the week they'd have their results… better get up there before the snow blocks stuff off." He assures the man, leaning down to kiss him before taking stock of what's left to pack.

Sniper wraps his arms around Engineer's legs and sighs, resting his head on his hip. "Never thought I'd miss anyone when I'm out on the hunt, but you two…" he pulls back with a grin and gets another kiss when Engineer bends down.

"Hand me the box with all the beans in it. The sooner we get you packed, the sooner we can have dinner and then give you a reason to come back home." The Texan gives him a wink as he pulls back and holds his hands out expectantly for the box.

Dinner is the last of their venison sausage and preserved tomato slices from Engineer's summer canning.

Pyro's tired, kept up most of the night with his own coughing. Engineer has to keep telling himself that it's nothing, it's nothing.

Probably nothing.

He and Sniper work around Pyro's exhaustion, going slow in their lovemaking and being gentle, tender, making sure he's taken care of first and letting him rest on the other half of the bed while they tend to each other. Sweaty, exhausted and almost unbearably warm, the two finish just as Pyro begins to drift off.

One lover for either side gives Pyro a comfortable niche in the otherwise cool room. It's not quite frigid enough to warrant a fire, but he's warm enough where he is, sandwiched between the two men he knows he can count on to keep him warm and safe. He mumbles soft words of love as he drifts off, the occasional cough punctuating what he says.

Engineer eventually asks Sniper to make him some hot tea, and when Pyro looks at Engineer, he sees worry on the Texan's face. A glance at the clock tells him he's been in and out, coughing and babbling for several hours.

"W-was I… being too loud?" He asks, snuggling into Engineer harder now that one of his heat sources has left to make tea.

"Nah, darlin'… just worried you ain't gonna get any sleep." Engineer yawns to the side before pressing a kiss to his forehead and tangling their legs together, thick arms snuggling the other man close. "Now just rest your throat and Sniper'll come back with somethin' nice for you." He mumbles, sounding half-asleep himself.

"O-okay." Pyro says, allowing himself to be held and closing his eyes. He's almost asleep when he starts coughing again.

Sniper and Engineer help him sit up to drink. Sniper rubs his back and holds the mug for him while Engineer gets a tissue for the thick phlegm. The tea soothes his throat and loosens the gunk in his lungs, making the following round of coughing a little easier. When he's done drinking and coughing, Pyro lies down again and Engineer and Sniper nestle into him.

"Write me when you get the results." Sniper whispers softly, brow creased in worry.

"Yeah… you still got that PO box in Grand Rapids?" Engineer asks, reaching up to stroke his cheek. The crease doesn't leave entirely, but it at least relaxes a bit and Sniper sighs and lets his eyes fall shut.

"I'll open it back up when I pass through… won't check it much, but… I'll try and get back to it before the month's out."

"Alright… I'll write you as soon as we know." Engineer promises, letting his hand remain on Sniper's cheek as he closes his own eyes and falls asleep.

:::::

When the call comes, it's not what he'd been expecting. Good or bad, he'd been expecting an answer, something definite, concrete. A, "we've found this problem," or "pick up this medication at your local pharmacy and he'll be fine in a few months," not a, "Mr. Conagher, I'm afraid we'll need y'all to come in for a few more tests. We don't have anything definite right now, so I can't give you anything concrete..."

He's numb as he is told a time, asked if they have visited the Oncology wing before, remembers the doctor they had worked with. All breathless affirmatives, and he doesn't know if he's taken a breath since the woman on the other end told him that they needed them to come back.

He thanks her, hangs up and stands there in front of the phone, staring down at the swinging cord until it goes still. Then, he keeps staring.

"Engie?" Pyro's voice is a croak, and it tells Engineer so much more than the phone call had.

"We have an appointment tomorrow in Dallas." He tells Pyro, straightening and pulling out a smile. He makes his lover tea and offers to build a fire in the living room.

They sleep on the couch, Pyro wrapped in Engineer's arms and both of them swaddled in blankets with a crackling fire casting a flicker of oranges and deep yellows across them. Pyro actually gets some sleep, deep and much needed and it comforts Engineer to see him resting through a night. It gives him hope that he might be getting better, makes him feel like everything isn't lost.

When they bundle into the truck hours before dawn, Pyro stretches out in the back seat and falls right back to sleep, coughing every hour or so, but otherwise rather calm.

Engineer stops in a little hamlet about an hour north of Austin to refuel and get them some breakfast to go before continuing onto the rest of their five-hour drive.

They arrive fifteen minutes early and, instead of going to play with the children in the small toy area, Pyro sits with Engineer quietly. Doctor Oswald meets with them, but no matter what Engineer says, he won't let him come with Pyro. He stops arguing when Pyro tells him it's okay, that he's not scared to be on his own, and to calm down.

He hadn't realized that he was shouting until he stops.

Engineer wants to hug him, kiss him, tell him that everything's going to be alright, but instead, he retreats to his plastic seat and picks up a magazine to hold, to stare through while he waits for Pyro to finish his tests.

He waits until his stomach tells him he's hungry, and the terrible hospital cafeteria food doesn't do anything to settle his stomach, but at least he's not filling the quiet waiting room with gurgles anymore. All the hope he'd felt that morning was gone, wiped out by how long they were taking, brought back by not hearing bad news and then gone again, because the saying that no news was good news was horse shit.

Sometime in the afternoon—he hadn't looked at the clock since he'd gotten lunch—Dr. Oswald comes back and he doesn't smile.

He brings Engineer to an office where Pyro is sitting in a hospital gown and jeans. The other man is chewing his lip, but he doesn't look distressed. The hope comes back.

"He wouldn't listen to what we've found until you were here with him…" Oswald explains as he takes a seat behind his desk.

Hopes dashed again, Engineer scoots his chair next to Pyro's and takes his hand, ignoring the way Oswald pointedly directs his gaze to his papers rather than his patient. "And just what _did_ you find?" Engineer asks, his own voice sounding foreign, like it doesn't belong to his lips.

"Well, Mr. Conagher, we found a mass—" Oswald kept speaking, kept explaining and gesturing at the CT scans and models and drawings he had and statistics and all of it, he kept going while Engineer just sat there and stared, unable to understand or absorb anything.

"Engie…" Pyro whispers, giving his had a squeeze.

Engineer sits up straighter, looks over at his lover, then at the expectant look Oswald is giving him. "Can you please repeat that last bit?" He asks, voice more robust than he thought he could manage.

"I need this form signed in order to do a biopsy and ascertain whether the mass is malignant. There are complications involved, as there are with all surgeries, but it's relatively safe." He explains, offering Pyro the pen.

Pyro stares at the pen for a moment before accepting it and looking at Engineer questioningly, asking with his eyes what he should do.

"How soon will you know after the biopsy?" Engineer asks, his hand around Pyro's tightening.

"A week. We'd like to admit him here in the interim, though, to start on some medication that will help with comfort and possibly lower the damage to his lungs if it _is_ operable." Oswald explains.

Engineer looks at Pyro and offers him a pained smile. "Would he be able to get some rest?" He asks, eyes following the dark bruises becoming visible beneath his eyes.

"He will probably sleep most of the time that he's here. You may visit during visiting hours—"

"Now wait just a doggon minute!" Engineer bristles and stands, Pyro's hand latched onto his the only thing keeping him from jumping the desk and ramming a fist through the doctor.

"Engie, Engie, sit down… Engie…!" Pyro pleads, pulling at his hand. "I'll be alright, I promise. As long as I get to see you a little, I'll be fine, I just want to finish this and go—" Pyro pauses in a coughing fit and Engineer softens immediately and sinks back to his chair to rub his back. "I just want to go home and sleep." Pyro whimpers, his hand slipping from Engineer's to hug himself.

Engie feels suddenly selfish and he wraps his arms around Pyro, presses his face to his hair with a soft sigh. "I know, darlin'…" he murmurs, nuzzling into the curly locks. He stays like that until he's sure that Oswald is properly uncomfortable before pulling back and picking the pen back up for Pyro to sign. "We'll do the biopsy." He tells Oswald firmly. "You're going to put it on a rush. I don't care how much I have to pay to make that happen, we better get it back in less than a fucking week."

"Engie…" Pyro whispers, though he doesn't say anything else, just takes the pen and shifts forward to sign the papers, leaving Engineer to stare down the oncologist across the desk from them.

"I'll see what I can do." Oswald replies tightly, taking the papers once Pyro has finished with them and pressing a button on his phone. "Have the OR prepped for a biopsy," is all he says before hanging up and standing. "You'll be able to come back tomorrow, Mr. Conagher. We'll need to prepare for surgery now to get your results as soon as possible."

The thought of leaving Pyro put a pit in Engineer's stomach, but he knew that he had to. Knew that it was for the best. Knew that he was going to hate the next few days.

He wanted to kiss Pyro and tell him that everything was going to be okay, needed it for himself as well, but… Pyro was giving his hand a squeeze and flashing him a tired smile and he just nods to Oswald, squeezes Pyro's hand and walks out.

He doesn't go to get food, doesn't stop at a bar like he's aching to, he just drives to the nearest motel and checks in. He's alone on the bed, silent and aching and hurting. He wishes that he had asked Sniper to stay, just until they knew for certain, just until they were sure it was nothing…

Engineer didn't sleep that night, he couldn't get his mind to stop thinking and listing and calculating and stopping and starting and repeating over and over that _this cannot be happening_. By 4am, he's making a list. People to call, specialists to see, favors to call in.

There was no way he was letting this happen without a fight.

* * *

Once again- not a sad fic. Just... checking.


End file.
